


Side Effects May Include

by blue_pointer



Series: A Study in Gold [13]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Ambidextrous, Arcane texting, Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Blunt Kima, Busted, Canon Temporary Character Death, Comedy, Coming Out, Consent, Developing Friendships, Don't copy to another site, Endearments, Episode: c01e049 A Name is Earned, Episode: c01e050 Best Laid Plans..., F/F, Fluff, Knock-Knock Jokes, M/M, Metallic Dragon!Gilmore, Minor Shaun Gilmore/Vax'ildan, No Homo, Nudity, Our Lord of Perpetual Booty Calls, Panic, Propositions, Resurrection, Secret Crush, Surprise Kissing, Vaxmore, Watching Someone Sleep, Wishful Thinking, cinnamon bun - Freeform, compliments, yay lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer
Summary: Grog dies. And then things really get awkward.
Relationships: Kima/Allura Vysoren, Shaun Gilmore & Allura Vysoren, Shaun Gilmore & Grog Strongjaw, Shaun Gilmore & Kima, Shaun Gilmore/Grog Strongjaw, Shaun Gilmore/Vax'ildan
Series: A Study in Gold [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906693
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30





	1. Our Lord of Perpetual Booty Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gilmore gets in trouble with Kima.

Gilmore stayed, waiting for Vax to fall asleep. He didn’t dare sleep himself. That risked one of the others discovering him here--which Vax certainly wouldn’t have liked--or Scanlan finding his surveillance spells neutralized and coming to see why, and gods only knew what would happen then. And so Gilmore contented himself with holding Vax until he fell asleep and watching him to make sure he had no more nightmares, god-sent or otherwise. Watching Vax’ildan’s sleeping face was surprisingly engaging. Gilmore thought he could have done it for longer, given the opportunity. But he was growing tired. It was not quite dawn when Gilmore pressed one last kiss to Vax’ildan’s cheek and took his leave. 

It was in the same state of undress, then, that Gilmore Teleported back into Pike’s room in Whitestone. Only to find he was not alone. 

“Where in the nine the hells did you go?” Kima did not look happy. Rather than answer her, Gilmore casually grabbed the fuzzy pink robe Allura had loaned him and slipped it on before walking back to his bed. 

“I don’t believe I wish to say,” Gilmore said, sitting down on the bed. 

“Well how about if you fucking do anyway?” Kima said, arms crossed over her chest as she marched over to him. She was an intimidating little thing. 

“Excuse me.” He squared his shoulders, looking down at her. “Which one of us is in charge here?” 

“That’s easy.” Kima tossed her braid over her shoulder. “I am.” 

Gilmore was really in no mood for an argument just now. He’d wanted to savor the time he and Vax’ildan had just spent, and this was pushing out all of the fond short term memories. 

“I told you no more magic until we’re done.” Gilmore rolled his eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Kima said. “What was so damn important that you went anyway? I’m being serious. If something’s going on, I want to know.”

Gilmore sighed. “My dear, I assure you, nothing serious is going on.”

“Well clearly something--!” She was interrupted by the door opening and Allura coming in with two mugs of what looked like tea. 

“Oh, you’re back!” Allura smiled at Gilmore.

“He won’t tell me where he was!” Kima said, as though she were telling on him to mother. She accepted one of the mugs and put her free arm around Allura’s waist. “Babe, I thought you said you were going to scry.” 

That surprised Gilmore. “You mean you were actually worried about me?” He hadn’t even considered that his absence would be noted, much less cause for concern. 

But neither of them were listening to him. Allura had bent down to whisper in Kima’s ear. Then she straightened back up and sipped her tea, smiling sweetly at Gilmore. “Kima takes her healing charges very seriously. And you especially.” 

Gilmore glared at the paladin, a warning that she had better not have told Allura his secret. But Kima glared right back. “You’re fucking that idiot _othlir_?” 

Gilmore nearly fell off the bed. “Kima!” Allura said, shocked. “It’s called discretion. You may want to try it sometime.”

“Well I’m sorry!” Kima shouted back. “I was freaking out we had a situation on our hands, and you tell me he was just off banging his closeted twink boyfriend down south!”

Gilmore put his head in his hands, unable to deal with any more of this. “Shaun, I’m so sorry.” Allura was clearly embarrassed by Kima’s behavior.

Gilmore sighed. “It’s fine. She’s not wrong, I’d just appreciate less yelling, please.” He was starting to get a headache. 

Allura tried to pull Kima out of the room, but Kima was clearly not finished. “Go on, Allie.” Kima nodded for Allura to go without her. “I’m going to make sure he sleeps this time.” Gilmore wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. 

“Be nice, cinnamon bun.” Allura came back and kissed Kima on the lips before walking to the door. “Good night, Shaun,” she said, offering a small wave before she disappeared. 

Kima threw the covers back and waited for Gilmore to actually get into bed and lie down. “Seriously, though?” she said, tucking him in. “ _That_ guy? You don’t think a trainwreck himbo like that’s a little beneath you?” 

“Not at all,” Gilmore shot back. “In fact, I like him quite a lot, flaws and all.”

Kima shook her head in disgust. “Isn’t he in love with the redhead anyway?” 

“Oh, darling.” Gilmore smirked. “What a lack of imagination you have. Don’t be so vanilla.”

“Holy Bahamut.” Kima rolled her eyes. “Please spare me the lecture on free love from Our Lord of Perpetual Booty Calls.”

Gilmore actually laughed a little. “If you insist. But you don’t know what you’re missing.” 

“No way.” Kima sat down in the chair by the bed. “If you had someone like Allie, you wouldn’t be selling your love so cheap.”

Gilmore’s eyes softened a little. “Perhaps not.”

“Now, hold still. I’m going to Heal you to sleep. And next time you decide to waste my heals so you can go get some ass, at least leave a note or something.” 

“Oh, very well. If you insist.” He’d hardly laid his head against the pillows when Gilmore fell fast asleep. She was good.


	2. Sudden Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Grog dies, Vax asks Gilmore if he can help.

Thanks to the heal from Kima, Gilmore slept deeply, but he sadly did not sleep long. Granted, that was probably his own fault for not coming home until dawn, but still. He was awakened by a soft rapping on his door later that morning. “Master Gilmore?” Sherri peeked her head in. “The tailor’s back with the first robe. Do you want help getting ready?” 

Gilmore groaned, swiping a hand over his face. “No, I believe I can manage. Give me ten minutes.” 

“Alright.” Sherri smiled. “Good morning, Sir. You’re looking better.” 

“Yes, good morning, dear. Thank you. I _feel_ better.” Though he was not about to tell her why, knowing Sherri would not approve. 

The visit with Mr. Aberwydd did not take long. The fit was nearly perfect, but it wasn’t as though Gilmore could give up the robe for alterations, as it was the only one he currently owned. The tailor left with an order for three more, and Gilmore was impressed, not only by his swift workmanship but also that he’d somehow managed to find purple fabric out of season and here, in the middle of nowhere. Then again, Cassandra had said he was the family tailor, and the de Rolos were as good as royalty in Whitestone. 

*

Noon found Gilmore alone in his room, contemplating the “healthy” lunch Kima had had the servants bring up on a tray for him. Suddenly, he felt his name being invoked, more than once. Gilmore dropped his spoon and scried to Vax, his Sight encountering a scene of panic in the Frostweald. 

“Who would know anything about this?” Vex’ahlia was asking her brother. 

“I didn’t bring a Teleportation spell!” Keyleth was saying, frantic. Gilmore glanced beyond them to the sad tableau of Grog collapsed in the snow, and Pike kneeling beside him looking grief-stricken. He watched Scanlan turn into a bird and fly off with Vex’ahlia on her broom. In the background, Percy picked up a sword and walked away with it, looking determined. 

What on earth had happened? Gilmore looked more closely at Grog, and gasped. He was dead. Completely. How dreadful. Gilmore reached for pen and arcane parchment, prepared for Vax to call on him again. He wrote

_What happened?_

As quickly as they’d left, Vex’ahlia and Scanlan returned, in even more of a panic, shouting about an entrance that was now gone. As Pike cast Revivify, Gilmore watched Vax’ildan march away in the snow. 

“Is there _anything_ you can do?” he asked, clearly shaken by whatever had just occurred. He took out Gilmore’s message and read it. “I don’t know. We took a short rest after the temple, and Grog started to walk off alone to take a piss or something, and just fell down dead. Out of nowhere.”

Now that he was able to focus on Vax’ildan, Gilmore noticed the fine lines around his eyes, and telltale streaks of grey in his dark hair. 

_You’re aged._

As soon as he’d written it, Gilmore realized what must have happened. _Of course._ The sphinx. They were devils with time magic. Truly, Vax was lucky if he’d only gotten away with a decade or two. And it didn’t look half bad on him...

Vax read Gilmore’s words and shook his head, impatient. “Look, gorgeous, I’m going to need you to focus. Grog is **dead**. Can you help us or not?” 

Gilmore looked over toward the Revivify ritual, where Vex’ahlia and Scanlan had joined Pike in her desperate attempt to bring Grog back.

_I don’t think I could do more than our Pike is doing now. I’m so sorry, my love. I used my last Teleport spell coming home, or I would be there with you in a heartbeat._

Who could have predicted that being selfish might actually have worked to their advantage today? Vax shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to ask Her for help, then. I have no other choice.” 

And before Gilmore could write a reply, Vax tucked the paper away and knelt down to pray to perhaps the least sympathetic god he could have chosen to pray to just now. Gilmore watched to make certain the Raven Queen did not pull another one of her dirty tricks on Vax. He could tell from the look on his darling boy’s face that she had said no, which was exactly what Gilmore had anticipated. 

He moved his consciousness to Percival, watching as he utilized his own corruption to engage in a pissing contest with the possessed blade. It was a clever tactic in its own way, but also very, very stupid. Someone needed to give Percival a lesson in demons before he learned the hard way. 

“Gilmore,” Vax drew him back. “She said every death has its place.” 

_Nevermind that, darling._ _I believe Pike and Sarenrae have succeeded._ _But the sword: something must be done about it. Whatever you do now, don’t touch it._

But Vax was no longer paying attention. He’d rushed off to make sure Grog didn’t strangle Scanlan, Gilmore’s words unread. All the same, Gilmore continued to watch until he was certain no one else fell under the cursed blade’s spell. He would have preferred they bring the sword to him instead of abandoning it in space, but that could all be dealt with later. 

As Vox Machina set up camp for the day, Gilmore let go his vision with a splitting headache and lay back against the pillows. Poor Grog. Gilmore would check on him tonight, just to be sure no corruption remained tying him to the blade. But for now, he had no choice but to sleep. No one was meant to far-see for that length of time, and Gilmore’s head was making sure he knew that. 

If only he’d been able to rest long enough to get his spells back. It hurt not to be able to be with his people when they were in such a state. At least they’d managed to bring Grog back. But how had he come to possess such a cursed object? How long had Grog been using it? And why on earth hadn’t Vox Machina brought it to Gilmore for Identification?


	3. Snogging Grog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you feel attacked for no reason. And sometimes there's a reason.
> 
> or
> 
> In which Gilmore checks to make sure Grog has properly recovered from death, and gets a shock.

Gilmore did not hear from Vax’ildan again that day. He knew he should give the boy his space; something traumatic had just occurred. And though Gilmore would have loved to see Vax’ildan and look at the years the sphinx had given him up close and in person, he could wait. Sands knew he’d waited much longer to hear from Vax in the months they’d known one another. 

All the same, Gilmore had determined to check on Grog, and so that was what he would do. Having already forewarned Kima that he would be paying Vox Machina a visit, Gilmore put on his brand new robes and stepped through the Teleportation Circle. Had he been hoping to see Vax at least in passing? Of course. But Gilmore entered the mansion to find Vax’ildan’s room empty. 

Not questioning what that might mean, he cast Invisibility on himself and went to look for Grog. Now that Vax was not here to distract him, it was disconcerting being inside someone else’s casting. Gilmore focused on his material senses, following his nose to the scent of unwashed manflesh, burning steel, and conjured beard he’d come to associate with Grog. He found Grog in the basement of the mansion, in a very rough training room, which did not look a comfortable place to sleep at all. And yet, there was the goliath, nodding off on a weight bench, a flaming warhammer sliding from his tired fingers. 

Gilmore tried to think of the best way to reveal himself. There was no telling what Grog might do if he surprised him. Likewise, he didn’t want to draw attention to his presence with anything ostentatious, for once. Gilmore did not wish to get Vex’ahlia’s hopes up that he would come adventuring with them. Nor did he intend to cause a scene. 

Finally, he decided to simply step into the nearest equipment closet and knock, to warn Grog of his presence. “Hullo?” Grog called out when Gilmore rapped on the inside of the door. 

“Grog, it’s me, Gilmore. May I come in?” 

“Uh. Yeh?” Grog tugged open the closet door in disbelief. “Have you been in there this whole time?” 

“Oh, Grog, how droll.” Gilmore moved past him into the chamber beyond, which smelled of sweat and combat. “No, I came to see you, of course. I heard about your little mishap this morning.” 

“Oh, uh. You mean when I died?” Grog stood there, clutching the door handle as though he still couldn’t believe Gilmore had just stepped out of the closet. 

“Ah...yes.” Gilmore turned to face him. “I came to see how you were doing. How are you holding up, my large friend?” 

“You came out of the closet,” Grog said, still having trouble processing what had just happened. 

“Well. A very long time ago, but yes.” Gilmore smiled, dazzlingly.

“No, I mean. Just now.” Grog’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. Am I dreaming?” 

This was going to take a very long time to get through, Gilmore could tell. Perhaps this could work as a shortcut. “You know, you might just be. Have a seat for me, would you? I’d like to--” But Gilmore did not finish his sentence before Grog came striding across the room, swept him up quite suddenly, and crushed Gilmore to his breast. “Oh. Well, yes. I’ve missed you, too, of course.” Gilmore patted him on the shoulder, unable to embrace Grog properly, as one of his arms was currently pinned.

“I’m glad this is a dream,” Grog told him. “I’d never do this in real life. But I did always kinda wonder.” And without further ado, Grog bestowed upon him quite a snog, which Gilmore could hardly avoid, though he did stare, wide-eyed for the duration. To say he’d taken Gilmore by surprise would have been an understatement. 

“Yeh.” Grog drew back, his eyes still closed. “Your lips are soft. I thought they would be.”

Gilmore felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. He was literally speechless. He sputtered for several long moments, trying to think of a proper response. “Consent, I feel...is so important. Although I am, naturally, deeply flattered.” 

“Sorry.” Grog set Gilmore back on his feet, letting go of him. “Since this is just a dream, I thought it would be okay.” 

“Yes, I can see that.” Gilmore smoothed back his hair, still in shock. “Have a seat for me, would you? I’d like to have a look at you before this gets any more complicated.” 

“What, you mean like my body?” Grog began to strip, very casually and quickly, as there was not much for him to take off. 

“No, that’s--!” But it was too late. Gilmore sighed. 

“Humans are always impressed by my body,” Grog said, looking to Gilmore for approval, like a dog seeking validation from its master. 

“Yes, I imagine they are.” Gilmore had seen a lot in his time, or he might be impressed, too. “But I haven’t come to examine your body, Grog.” 

“Oh, I get it.” Grog nodded. “This is a sex dream.” 

“No no!” Gilmore waved his hands against any attempt Grog might make to grab him again. “It’s definitely not. Nothing like that.” 

“But I died,” Grog said, sounding disappointed. 

“I know, Grog dear, and that’s why I’ve come to see you. I want to make sure that you’re alright. Because I care about you.” Gilmore coughed politely. “But not in a sexy way.” 

“No?” Grog still looked so disappointed, poor thing. 

“No. Besides, you looked after me when I died. I could hardly let this go by without repaying your kindness in some way. So I’m here to check on you, and make certain you’re in no imminent danger of dying a second time.” Still, after what had just happened, Gilmore couldn’t resist giving into a  _ little _ curiosity. “Grog...don’t you usually dream of women in these situations?” 

“Well, yeah.” Grog nodded. “But not always. And besides, you got such pretty eyes.” 

“Well.” This was much more flattery than Gilmore had expected from this encounter. “That’s very kind.”

“And you’re, like. Really smart,” Grog told him, earnestly. 

“True, true.” What was happening right now?

“Plus, you’re tall. I like that.” His boyish grin was charming.

Gilmore didn’t know what to say. “Grog, do you perhaps have a little crush on me?” He would never have guessed it in a million years. 

“Look. I like tacos, alright?” 

Oh gods, not this euphemism again. 

“All I’m saying is, you look kinda. Taco-esque to me.” Grog gestured when he spoke, and fortunately, he seemed to be describing the food.

Well, so much for feeling flattered. “That’s not a compliment, Grog,” Gilmore said. 

“Okay, well. I’m just sayin’. A man like you...makes me wonder if I might be ambidextrous.” 

“My, that IS a big word!” Gilmore was impressed.

Grog ducked his head, bashful. “Yeah. I learn a lot of big words hanging around Scanlan.” 

“I’m sure you do,” Gilmore said drily. He sighed. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind putting your clothes back on?” 

“Oh, okay.” At least Grog could follow directions. “Then can I put my arms around you again?” 

“If you insist.” Gilmore could see he was going to have to give some concession or he’d never make it home at this rate. “But only in a friendly way.”

“Aw, okay.” Grog pulled his kilt back on.

“I know, dreams of me are simply no fun, are they? But I appreciate you asking me first this time,” Gilmore said. 

Grog sat back down without saying anything and just opened one arm wide, perhaps expecting Gilmore to come to him this time. With some trepidation, Gilmore stepped forward. He was going to have to get closer in order for this to work, in any case. This time, Grog just loosely wrapped one large arm around him, resting his hand on Gilmore’s opposite hip. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Gilmore asked, patting Grog’s shoulder. 

“I don’t remember dying,” Grog said. 

“That’s likely for the best, don’t you think?” Gilmore began a careful inspection of his ears, nose, and mouth. 

“Alright, but. I kinda wanna know if I’m dying.”

“That’s understandable. But it’s not very pleasant, I can assure you. Look down, please.” Grog did, and Gilmore snapped his fingers, using Hold Person to keep the goliath in place while Gilmore looked into his eyes. This wouldn’t work if Grog decided to get carried away again. 

It looked as though Pike had done a thorough job. Gilmore closed his eyes and gripped Grog’s shoulders, looking with his other senses. But he found nothing apart from the scar on Grog’s soul. Satisfied, Gilmore let Grog have control of his body again. 

“You probably shouldn’t do that, if you don’t want me to kiss you,” Grog said. 

Gilmore opened his eyes and stepped away, quickly. “No, I suppose not.” 

“Your eyelashes are really long,” Grog said, impressed. 

“Why, thank you.” And if they were perhaps extended through means of enchantment, Gilmore would never tell.

“I hope Vax tells you how pretty you are.” Grog seemed quite serious.

If only. That hurt a bit. “Well, Vax’ildan is not quite as effusive as you are,” Gilmore said.

“Wot’sat mean?” 

“It means you’re a poet, Grog. With the heart of a romantic.” Gilmore smiled kindly. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” 

“Well.” Grog chuckled. “It’s just a dream, anyway.”

“Of course.” Gilmore bowed his head.

Grog thought for a moment, and added, “Vax is a dummy if he doesn’t tell you.” 

“Really, Grog, that’s very kind of you.” Gilmore patted one of Grog’s large hands. 

“If you ever change your mind...about consent, you know, I dream most every night.” He was a tenacious thing.

“I’ll bear it in mind.” Gilmore smiled patiently. “In the meantime, I hope we can still be friends.” 

Grog nodded. “Sure. Yeh.” 

Now for the serious part. “I must warn you, Grog, after what that sword did to you today, you’re going to be more vulnerable than the others to having your soul taken away again. So I’d like you to be very careful with cursed objects and things like that from now on, please.” Grog was nodding. “And if you ever come across another object that seems a bit different, but you’re not quite sure, I’d like you to bring it straight to me.”

“Okay.” Grog was still nodding. 

“And you know you can always come talk to me if there’s something you’re not sure of. Because we  _ are _ friends.” Gilmore gave Grog’s fingers a squeeze.

“Really?” That was heartbreaking. Was friendship such a rare thing for him? 

Gilmore smiled. “Really.” 

“Okay.” Grog seemed to mull this over. “Can I kiss you again before I wake up?” 

Honestly, he was worse than Jarett. “What if I kiss you this time?” 

“Okay!” Grog closed his eyes, eagerly. 

Using his shoulder for leverage, Gilmore leaned up and gave him a tiny peck on the cheek. “I’m afraid that will have to do for now.” 

Grog opened his eyes, disappointed. “Okay.” 

Detangling himself, Gilmore walked back to the storage closet. “Take care of yourself, you big lug.” 

“You, too.” Grog nodded. “Get better.” 

Gilmore inclined his head in farewell. “Good night, my friend.” 

“Night, you. Gilmore.” 

He stepped back into the closet, shutting the door behind him before casting Teleport. Back in Whitestone, Gilmore sat down on his bed, marveling at everything that had just occurred. That had certainly not gone to plan, but at least Grog seemed to have survived his brush with death relatively unscathed. There was that.


End file.
